Part Third

The‘ Residenz-Theater’ sparked and hummed

With lights and people. Gebnitz was to sing,

That rare soprano. All the fiddles strummed

With tuning up; the wood-winds made a ring

Of reedy bubbling noises, and the sting

Of sharp, red brass pierced every ear-drum; patting

From muffled tympani made a dark slatting

Across the silver shimmering of flutes;

A bassoon grunted, and an oboe wailed;

The‘ celli pizzicato-ed like great lutes,

And mutterings of double basses trailed

Away to silence, while loud harp-strings hailed

Their thin, bright colours down in such a scatter

They lost themselves amid the general clatter.

Frau Altgelt in the gallery, alone,

Felt lifted up into another world.

Before her eyes a thousand candles shone

In the great chandeliers. A maze of curled

And powdered periwigs past her eyes swirled.

She smelt the smoke of candles guttering,

And caught the glint of jewelled fans fluttering

All round her in the boxes. Red and gold,

The house, like rubies set in filigree,

Filliped the candlelight about, and bold

Young sparks with eye-glasses, unblushingly

Ogled fair beauties in the balcony.

An officer went by, his steel spurs jangling.

Behind Charlotta an old man was wrangling

About a play-bill he had bought and lost.

Three drunken soldiers had to be ejected.

Frau Altgelt's eyes stared at the vacant post

Of Concert-Meister, she at once detected

The stir which brought him. But she felt neglected

When with no glance about him or her way,

He lifted up his violin to play.

The curtain went up? Perhaps. If so,

Charlotta never saw it go.

The famous Fraeulein Gebnitz’ singing

Only came to her like the ringing

Of bells at a festa

Which swing in the air

And nobody realizes they are there.

They jingle and jangle,

And clang, and bang,

And never a soul could tell whether they rang,

For the plopping of guns and rockets

And the chinking of silver to spend, in one's pockets,

And the shuffling and clapping of feet,

And the loud flapping

Of flags, with the drums,

As the military comes.

It's a famous tune to walk to,

And I wonder where they're off to.

Step-step-stepping to the beating of the drums.

But the rhythm changes as though a mist

Were curling and twisting

Over the landscape.

For a moment a rhythmless, tuneless fog

Encompasses her. Then her senses jog

To the breath of a stately minuet.

Herr Altgelt's violin is set

In tune to the slow, sweeping bows, and retreats and advances,

To curtsies brushing the waxen floor as the Court dances.

Long and peaceful like warm Summer nights

When stars shine in the quiet river. And against the lights

Blundering insects knock,

And the‘ Rathaus’ clock

Booms twice, through the shrill sounds

Of flutes and horns in the lamplit grounds.

Pressed against him in the mazy wavering

Of a country dance, with her short breath quavering

She leans upon the beating, throbbing

Music. Laughing, sobbing,

Feet gliding after sliding feet;

His — hers —

The ballroom blurs —

She feels the air

Lifting her hair,

And the lapping of water on the stone stair.

He is there! He is there!

Twang harps, and squeal, you thin violins,

That the dancers may dance, and never discover

The old stone stair leading down to the river

With the chestnut-tree branches hanging over

Her and her lover.

Theodore, still her lover!

The evening passed like this, in a half faint,

Delirium with waking intervals

Which were the entr'acts. Under the restraint

Of a large company, the constant calls

For oranges or syrops from the stalls

Outside, the talk, the passing to and fro,

Lotta sat ill at ease, incognito.

She heard the Gebnitz praised, the tenor lauded,

The music vaunted as most excellent.

The scenery and the costumes were applauded,

The latter it was whispered had been sent

From Italy. The Herr Direktor spent

A fortune on them, so the gossips said.

Charlotta felt a lightness in her head.

When the next act began, her eyes were swimming,

Her prodded ears were aching and confused.

The first notes from the orchestra sent skimming

Her outward consciousness. Her brain was fused

Into the music, Theodore's music! Used

To hear him play, she caught his single tone.

For all she noticed they two were alone.